


Transition

by kscribbles



Category: Fright Night (2011)
Genre: Blood Drinking, F/M, Vampire Turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-21
Updated: 2012-04-21
Packaged: 2017-11-04 01:43:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/388282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kscribbles/pseuds/kscribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Anything set in between Amy being dragged off from the club and Charley showing up to rescue her. Is she in the ground? In a white room? Is there sexytimes with Jerry (I vote yes!)? Would love if you show her on both sides of the transformation, somehow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transition

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the lj community FrightNight2011's kinkmeme: http://frightnight2011.livejournal.com/718.html

Realistically, there was only one person it could be, unlocking the door to the white cell Amy found herself in. And she used the term ‘person’ loosely. She wanted to be brave, but she still pushed herself in to the furthest corner of the bright room as the door swung open.

Her breathing sounded as loud to her as the thud of Jerry's boots on the unforgiving surface of the floor. 

Amy thought she was a pretty good judge of people, of men in particular, but she’d obviously been very wrong about Jerry before. And now she couldn't hope to get a read on his mood. Was he about to kill her, or did he want to play? He was all swagger and sex, his ruined shirt hanging loose and open, his dark eyes human and almost warm. She knew _her_ eyes must be wide and wild, swinging back and forth between his imposing figure and the still open door. Did she have any chance of making a run for it?

 _Charley_ , she thought, where _are_ you?

“Hey girl,” Jerry drawled.

She lifted her hand in a tiny wave that she hoped looked casual, like she was biding her time, fearlessly waiting for the rescue she knew was on its way.

“Hey,” she said.

“You scared?” Jerry asked, smiling, before flicking the door shut and slowly advancing.

Okay, so she failed at the whole looking fearless thing.

“N-no,” she stuttered.

“Yeah you are. I can smell it.” He took another step, approaching her like one might a caged animal. “But it's okay, Amy. That will go away soon.”

“My... smell?”

He laughed. “Your fear. But yeah, that too. Unfortunately. See,” he said, standing now only inches from her, and dropping his voice to a stage whisper, “you're already a vampire.”

She sucked in a quick breath, recoiling, pushing herself even more firmly into the wall behind her.

“No, I’m not!” she declared with conviction. She _couldn't_ be.

He said nothing. Just raised his thick eyebrows a little, questioningly.

“I... I don't feel like a vampire.” She was a little less sure. What was it supposed to feel like?

“No?” He leaned in close and her heart skipped a beat (would it stop soon?). Jerry's nose brushed lightly against the skin of her neck and he inhaled deeply (do vampires breathe?).

Straightening again, he planted his feet, and lifted a single clawed nail and, so quickly she almost didn't see it, whipped the nail across his chest.

She gasped loudly, as blood welled up in the wound and the scent of his blood hit the air. It was... Shit, it was _delicious_. Oh no.

She turned her head away and closed her eyes. She wouldn't drink his blood. She wouldn't. Not if she had a choice. Not while she was still herself.

“You'll want it soon, Amy, I promise.”

And though the low, deep rumble of his voice compelled her to believe that promise, she shook her head vigorously, with her eyes tightly closed like a child.

 _Charley_ , she thought, get here and _kill_ this bastard. Quick, before it’s too late.

And then, when nothing else happened for a few moments, she cracked an eye open and peeked at Jerry. He was collecting his own blood on his now human-looking finger. He popped it in his mouth and sucked. Amy could _feel_ her eyes dilate (or were they going black?) as she watched his slow deliberate movements. She just barely bit back a groan.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. What was he doing to her? And why did he have to be so damned _hot_? 

She'd wanted him before she'd known he was a vampire. Badly. Tried to talk Mrs. Brewster into it just to live vicariously through her. Half tackled Charley into bed because watching Jerry... fix things had turned her on so much. Course Charley had been fixated on the vampire for other reasons. God, she should have listened! Or at least not ran out on him. And when she had found out what Jerry really was, she'd been disgusted (with him, with herself?) and terrified. 

And now, that disgust, the fear, the guilt… it all mixed with a crazy, intense desire for this man, this _vampire_ , that felt out of her control. She didn't know what to do. And he barely had to do anything but stand there. He had hardly even touched her yet. Just staring at him, being manipulative and sexy, she could feel herself getting wet. There was no doubt, she still wanted him. And she was pretty sure... god, it was so gross, but she was pretty sure she wanted his blood.

“You see?” Jerry said with a smirk. “If I were feeling... less charitable, if I were to throw you out into the sun right now, you'd burst into flame. Just like that poor _sweet_ stripper.”

“I knew you killed Doris!” she spat defiantly, raising her chin, even through a fresh stab of guilt. It was Charley who'd known, who'd tried to stop it. “And she wasn’t a stripper,” Amy added a little lamely, hoping to keep the subject off _them_ , off of what was happening to _her_ right now.

“Actually, Charley killed Doris. But that's not really the point, is it Amy?”

So there was no changing the subject, no diverting Jerry’s attention. Giving in, she shook her head again, but with her eyes wide open this time.

“No,” Jerry agreed. “It's not.”

He kissed her then, a hand in her hair, another around her waist, pulling her close. His tongue dove into her mouth and she almost swooned at the taste of him. So much blood, right there, beneath the surface. She was helpless to resist. And as she kissed him back, even though she knew it was so wrong, she realized she didn't _want_ to resist.

Even when he broke the kiss and moved back to her neck, she didn't fight him. If it was done already, if she'd been turned, what was the point? 

She couldn't stop herself from stiffening, though, waiting for the pain as she heard his fangs descend (she could hear _that_?). He murmured to her, comforting sounds she wasn't sure were words, and sank his teeth in. She gasped at the momentary pain, like the shock of hot metal touching her skin. And then, to her horror, she found herself moaning at the unexpected pleasure of Jerry drinking her blood. How fucked up was that? How was it even possible that could feel good? And yet, her hand shot up, tangling in his thick hair, holding him in place. He only drank for a few more seconds, though, before he plucked her hand from him and pulled away, letting her go.

Amy licked her lips as she watched him lick _her_ blood from _his_. He looked at her like he was deciding something. She was frozen. Not like before; she wasn't hypnotized. Not at all. Actually, she felt more like herself than she ever had. She was waiting for his next move. Wanting him to take it.

 _Run_ a part of her still said. _There must be a way_. But there was another part, louder now, saying _Why?_

Achingly slowly, he lifted his hand to his mouth, and bit into his thumb. A drop of blood beaded up on the surface as he pulled it away. 

“God…” she whispered.

Jerry just shook his head (distaste for _that_ word) and held out his hand to her, thumb upturned like an offering. He was giving her a choice. Like it was ever a question. 

She took a tiny step forward and parted her lips. Her knees nearly buckled as he slipped his thumb into her mouth and his blood hit her tongue, the taste fucking _transcendent_. But he held her steady as she drew the powerful elixir from him. She knew that this was it, that there was no going back to life before, to her parents, to high school, to track, and boys, and sunlight. She didn’t care. She had this. She had Jerry and blood, and that was all she needed. 

And she still had _power_ , she realized, as she heard Jerry groan.

She opened eyes that had slipped closed in ecstasy, and looked at him. His eyes were shut too, a look of bliss on his face. A glance down his body, and another question she’d had about vampires was answered.

His eyes fluttered open and he pulled his thumb away to her moaned protest. “That will do for now.” 

She pouted at him, but didn’t disobey.

He gave her the sexiest smirk she’d seen on him yet. She had to keep herself from pouncing to get more of his mouth or his blood.

“What do you say, Amy?” he said, reaching for the button on his jeans. “Wanna have some fun before your fangs come in?”

Or that, that would do.

Her first thought as she slid to her knees in front of her maker was _I’m sorry, Charley. You’re too late_. But maybe she wasn’t sorry at all. 

Her next thought was that if Charley did make it, she’d save _him_ and they could do this together, with Jerry, _forever_. 

And a little while later, when she came up for air, she realized she didn't need air at all.

 

FIN


End file.
